“Hadn’t you better come with me?” he asked, “I don’t know him.”
“We shall be in class. But he’ll know if you mention our names. Say we sent you, and that you won the new boys’ race. Do you twig?”
“All right,” said Dick, beginning to feel he had something really big on hand.
“You’re a young trump,” said Birket, “and, I say don’t forget to ask him to give you the whip. We might manage a run to-morrow. Good-night. Glad you’ve come to Templeton.”
“Look here, by the way,” said Swinstead, as they parted, “don’t say anything about it to anybody. There’s such a lot of jealousy over these things. Best to get it all settled first. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes,” said Dick, feeling a good deal bewildered, and doubtful whether after all he had not been foolish in undertaking so important a task.
He returned to his chum in an abstracted frame of mind. He had certainly expected his achievement that afternoon would give him a “footing” in Templeton, but in his wildest dreams he had not supposed it would give him such a lift as this.
Whipper-in of the Templeton Harriers was rapid promotion for a new boy on his first day. But then, he reflected, if they really were hard up for a fellow to take the office, it would be rather ungracious to refuse it.
“What did they want you for?” asked Heathcote.
“Oh, talking about the race, don’t you know, and that sort of thing,” said Dick, equivocally.